


Stealing

by Anxiety_Induced_Writing



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Sneaking, Stealing, scary Vagabond is scary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:47:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22090567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anxiety_Induced_Writing/pseuds/Anxiety_Induced_Writing
Summary: She crept through the house, mindful of each floorboard that could give away her intrusion, carefully making her way through the kitchen.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42





	Stealing

She crept through the house, mindful of each floorboard that could give away her intrusion, carefully making her way through the kitchen. She had just reached for a plate that was so close, her other than freezing, almost grabbing a hold of one and-

"What are you doing?"

Fiona turned swiping a cookie from the plate, and stuffing it into her face, eyes wide as she realizes, holy crap that's the Vagabond who just caught her stealing cookies. It would almost be funny if she couldn't see the way he held to one side more than the other. She chewed and smiled sheepishly.

"It's after two in the morning. Why are you awake?"

"Why are you just now getting home?" 

That earned her a tilt of a head, and she tensed as the Vagabond moved closer. She needed this place, needed to stay with the Fakes. If she has just fucked it up, she'd have to be out of Los Santos by the next day. Fiona didn't close her eyes, however, in the face of the man who was rumored to be a beast. She kept her eyes on him, never once backing down. 

He made his way to the fridge, opening the door and a drawer, bending over to pull something out. Fiona shifted the cold can in her own hand, her sleep shirt over her hands not well suited to blocking out the cold. The Vagabond stood, a Diet Coke in his hand as he walked over to the plate of cookies. 

"Who were you planning on blaming?"

This shocked her for a moment, before Fiona replied.

"Gavin."

"Blame Matt, he's probably already have a good number. No one will call you out. But don't make it obvious. Suggest it once Lindsay asks, you know how she is over her cookies."

And with that, The Vagabond plucked a cookie off of the plate, lifted his mask to reveal his mouth, and started eating it, turning and walking away. Fiona only watched, dumbfounded. 

Maybe Gavin was right, maybe she would fit in with the Fakes.


End file.
